


A Land Without Compassion

by wonderofasunrise



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderofasunrise/pseuds/wonderofasunrise
Summary: Susan is struggling to come to terms with Mark’s death. A flashback ensues, while Kerry is trying her best to comfort Susan in the only way that she knows how.
Relationships: Elizabeth Corday/Mark Greene (mentioned), Mark Greene/Susan Lewis (ER TV 1994) (friendship), Susan Lewis/Kerry Weaver
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	A Land Without Compassion

**Author's Note:**

> I was a bit frustrated at how little the show explored Susan dealing with Mark’s death, as I had expected something more considering how they were each other’s person for a long time. And so this fic was born, with a few elements taken liberally from my headcanon—namely that Susan never left Chicago, and the reason why she couldn’t reciprocate Mark’s feelings was because she fell in love with Kerry.
> 
> Disclaimer: Still not mine.
> 
> Featuring an excerpt from “With Me Stay” by The Corrs.

_A melting pot of paint stirred slowly to the boil  
We had a radar, now it’s gone_

_This is a cruel, cruel love  
I stood on the dark side of love  
This is a cruel, cruel love  
I stood on the dark side alone_

* * *

Susan Lewis has lived in Chicago almost all her life, but the city has never felt so suffocating as it is tonight.

Sitting on the front porch of her house, she feels as if everything around her was moving closer towards her, ready to strangle her in an instant as she makes yet another effort to comprehend the events of today. She takes a deep breath and exhales before her eyes wander aimlessly around her surroundings and the street in front of her house, and that’s when it slowly begins to come together for her—the fact that the city will never be the same.

The words from Elizabeth’s letter to the ER this morning escaped her, and unsurprisingly it took her a good few hours to fully comprehend the news the letter delivered: Mark is dead. Her best friend is gone, brain tumour having taken him so cruelly and prematurely, and her world will never be the same again.

Her first reaction was to leave the admit desk, and while making her way towards the ambulance bay she half-expected that at least a drop of tear would fall down her face once she was out. But it didn’t, and it hasn’t.

She wants to cry. She wants to grieve properly, as she should upon the death of a beloved friend, to let everything out through her tears instead of holding it all inside until it explodes at the most unfortunate moment. But nothing comes out. She wonders if it’s a sign of denial; after all, it’s the first stage of grief, and having seen deaths firsthand almost everyday for years does not automatically make her immune from it.

She is still unable to cry anyway, and she hates herself for it.

***

Susan never regrets how her life has turned out, as she is at her happiest that she has been in years with the person she loves the most, but at times she does wonder about the what ifs and what could’ve beens all those years ago when Mark declared that he loved her.

She loved him, she told him in response, but it was altogether a different kind of love from what he had for her. She made sure he knew she was in love with someone else, and upon learning who the person was Mark’s first reaction was to ask, “How?” Still, he congratulated her, thanking her for trusting him with the revelation. Despite that he looked so defeated at the time, and she couldn’t help but kiss him. Neither was sure what it was supposed to mean, though it seemed like the right thing to do. It was pleasant enough for her, but there was no way of knowing what it was like for him.

She thinks about the kiss. She was not sure what it meant then, and she still isn’t sure what it means now. One thing for sure, it’s another reminder of what could have happened between the two, and while there is no regret on her part, at times she finds herself wondering how hurt Mark was at the realisation that his love for her was unrequited.

They never talked about it since—partly because of her desire to keep her relationship secret, and partly because he did not want to make things more awkward than they already were. While it did work well for both of them, she starts wondering if he ever needed closure, and if he needed to be convinced more as to why they would never be together.

Did she fail him this way? Did she fail to provide closure when he needed it the most?

Either way, they never talked about it, and they will never have a chance to.

Sure, he eventually found someone else, and she was beyond happy that someone was Elizabeth, but part of her now wonders if he ever suffered because of her rejection, and—if he did—how deeply hurt he was after she kissed him and told him she was in love with someone else. The same woman she is still very much in love with, and the woman who brings her happiness in place of all the what ifs.

***

Kerry Weaver has known Susan Lewis for years, and it is one of the reasons why she gets so frustrated every time she fails to read Susan and find out what to do with her in a difficult time.

Susan has been quiet since they arrived home, and she maintained a considerable distance from Kerry and everyone else at work earlier in the day. While Kerry finds it understandable, given how much Mark meant to Susan and how they were pretty much each other’s person for a long time, it still frustrates her that there is so little she can do to comfort Susan. Much to Kerry’s chagrin, the best thing she can do for now is let Susan keep her distance for as long as she needs while she is figuring out all the hows and whys she has been wondering about since the revelation in Elizabeth’s letter this morning.

In a perfect universe she would allow herself to hold Susan in her arms and let the younger woman cry her heart out instead of letting her figure things out on her own in a world Kerry knows she can never enter. She isn’t even sure if she has seen Susan cry since the news broke out, and the thought of how much pain it must be causing Susan shatters Kerry’s heart. She is so used to knowing the answer to everything, yet she has failed to figure out what to do with Susan at the moment, and the best thing she can do is wait. Wait and stay still, as much as deep down she is dying to do the exact opposite.

How Susan is coming to terms with everything is the main priority now, and Kerry’s desire to provide comfort and assurance—however she intends to do so—will have to wait.

Kerry understands perfectly that if there was one thing that Susan demanded absolute respect from everyone it was her friendship with Mark. It was a relationship built very steadily over many years of working and struggling together, which started long before Kerry came into the picture, and it is something she knows she needs to respect.

And so she does, because that’s how much she loves Susan. She loves her so much it hurts.

***

Another hour passes, and Kerry figures out now is the best time to finally make her way towards Susan outside.

She opens the front door quietly, and as soon as she does so she catches the sight of Susan sitting on a chair on the porch with her head down, her expression unreadable. One thing for sure, Kerry thinks, Susan looks lost. Well and truly lost.

And it frightens Kerry, because of all the things she understands and has learned about Susan over the years, it is not something she knows how to deal with. Without a word, she takes a seat next to Susan, and as soon as she rests her back against the chair Susan turns to her. Contrary to Kerry’s expectation, Susan’s expression shows no sign of surprise whatsoever, as if she had been waiting for Kerry to come to her and was somehow relieved that she finally did.

Thinking that it’s finally safe to do so, as softly as possible Kerry takes Susan’s hand in hers, and silently breathes out a sigh of relief when the latter does not fight. Kerry feels a gentle squeeze, and her eyes fall onto the sight of their entangled hands under the night sky—an act so simple yet so powerful, and one that Kerry never expected to provide her with solace when she needs it the most. She hopes it also has the same—or at least a similar—effect on Susan.

A few seconds later Kerry’s profound attention at her hand around Susan’s is disrupted by the sight of teardrops slowly falling onto the hand, and Kerry promptly looks up to see tears welling up in Susan’s eyes. Susan lets out an audible sigh, all of today’s events finally coming together in a fleeting moment of sudden understanding, and she doesn’t even try to stop tears from streaming down her face.

“What happens now?” Susan finally speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. Still, it’s the most Susan has let out all day, and as strange as it may sound Kerry feels a tinge of relief upon hearing that. Whether she can provide an answer, however, is another matter.

A single look at Susan’s eyes nearly breaks Kerry’s heart into pieces once again; she has never seen Susan look so small and broken, and it pains her that there is only so much she can do to make it better. She quietly prays that she will be able to do more after this evening, no matter how little more.

Figuring out that a silent gesture works best for the time being, Kerry lets Susan cry onto her shoulder, all the while holding her like she would a child. Tears run freely down Susan’s face as she mourns her best friend in the arms of her lover; while the poignancy of the moment is not completely lost on her, all she wants for now is simply pouring her heart out through her tears, as she had been waiting for hours, and Kerry is the only one who can help her through it.

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Kerry finally breaks her silence by muttering, “I’m sorry,” in an undertone. For the time being, it says everything that she needs to say and Susan needs to hear; anything more that she wants to say can wait.

“Stay with me,” Susan pleads in a tone that makes Kerry’s heart sink even deeper. It is the voice of someone who is not only grieving the death of a loved one, but also trying to come to terms with how her life will change forever after years of building a wonderful relationship with the person in question. Silently Kerry prays that she will never hear that tone from Susan again.

“Always,” Kerry affirms, because it’s the best thing she can promise to the woman she loves more than anyone else.

For the moment, it’s indeed everything that Susan needs to hear, and she wouldn’t ask for anything else.


End file.
